


Upsetti

by Dagonet (TsukikoCurrier)



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 03:40:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5319068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsukikoCurrier/pseuds/Dagonet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy, while drunk, says something amusing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Upsetti

          Harry is the designated sober person- since V-Day he doesn't much fancy being out of control of his body, a drink here or there is welcome but nothing more- leaning against a back wall. He watches as Roxy and Eggsy fall all over one another while stumbling to a couch, Merlin gesticulating wildly to no one as he explains something no one is listening to, Percival clinking a glass so hard against Gawain's that it shatters- average party, considering.   
  
          Harry frowns at the mess caused by the shattered glass, and adds it to the mental list he has going of what cleanup will be like: there's an abundance of shattered glass, one bottle of pop that exploded (the counter tops were quite sticky), a deck of destroyed playing cards that would need replacing, and one massive string had gotten incredibly tangled in the ceiling fan.  
  
          It was ten pm. There were two more hours before New Year and who knew how long they would drag out the festivities. How many more messes would be made that he would have to clean up with the help of hung over Agents.  
  
          Caught up in resenting his near future, Harry didn't even realise that Eggsy was approaching him- and by the time he did Eggsy had nearly fallen into him.  
  
          'Harry... why're you frownin'?' It's barely mumbled into his shirt, and he's incredibly glad Eggsy isn't holding a drink for it would have spilled all over him. He was far past the point of drunk, and Harry would be incredibly surprised if he remembered any of this in the morning.  
  
          'I'm thinking about how I'm going to have to clean up all of the mess the rest of you have created. It's going to be awful tedious, but I guess this is what I get for abstaining from the festivities.'

'Harry... D-Don't be upsetti, have spaghetti...' Eggsy is still leaning against his chest, words slurring something awful, but Harry's certain he's heard him correctly. The question was, what did it  _mean_?

          How would spaghetti help anything?  
  
'I'm sorry?'  
  
          'Don't be upsetti- have spaghetti!'  
  
'Eggsy, are you hungry?' Why else would he be speaking of food?  
  
          '... Forgetti... Your regretti...' Eggsy fell limply on his chest, and it was only Harry's unimpaired reflexes that kept him from crumpling to the floor. Had he not been so focused on the younger agent, he would have noticed that everyone had been watching the exchange with as much attention as drunk people can muster.

          The morning-after cleanup was as awful as expected; every agent grumbling to themselves about hangovers even after a full breakfast and paracetamol. The exception was Eggsy, who was still worshipping the porcelain god hours after waking. No one envied him, despite his being excused from physical cleanup, and thus kept their complaints to themselves. No one wanted to make Arthur annoyed at this hour- he'd already done about half of the work for them the night before.  
  
          It wasn't until a few days later when Harry got some distressing news- Bors had gone silent unexpectedly, and he feared the worst- that the events of that night came back to haunt him. Harry went down to the kitchen to grab a well deserved snack, and upon opening the fridge discovered an opaque container of food with a post-it with his title on it. He set it on the counter without looking before pulling out some juice to drink and closing the fridge; looking down, he read the entirety of the note.  
  
          "Don't be upsetti, Arthur."  
  
Pulling off the lid revealed spaghetti.  
  
          'What on earth?' He whispered to himself, heating the container in the microwave. Who had been sober enough to recall Eggsy's drunken slurring, let alone close enough to hear him so clearly?  
  
          It became a common occurrence around HQ; every time Harry frowned or sighed someone would pop out of the woodwork to tell him to not be "upsetti" and quite frankly it had long since worn out its welcome. Eggsy never said the phrase, and was never around when anyone else did so, and thus didn't think anything was amiss outside of the normal stresses when he saw harry rubbing at his temples, or thumping his head against his desk. Simply shrugged and went on his merry way and goodness wasn't  _that_  annoying- the source of all of this ridiculousness was completely oblivious.  
            
'Hey, Harry, I was thinkin' of cooking tonight- spaghetti okay with you?' Eggsy was on his way out, having filed his report to Merlin a mere two days late as opposed to his usual week, whereas Harry still had a stack of forms left to sign. The joys of being Arthur.  
  
          'Oh god  _anything_  but spaghetti.' Harry blurted out, before snapping his head up and seeing Eggsy's confused face. He didn't look hurt, only shocked, and Harry breathed out a sigh of relief. 'I've had an awful lot of it since New Year, I'd much more appreciate a change of pace.'  
  
          'Oooookay...'  
  
          There's a full meeting at the What-Should-Actually-Be-A-Round-Table, people Holo'd in and everything, when things come to a head. Harry's got a terrible headache, and though everything is on course he is still getting irritated by how long it's taking to get through everything. He'd rather like to go home and sleep.  
  
          'Oi, Arthur!' Gawain calls from the end of the table, waving his corporeal arms about like a man on fire. 'What's got your knickers in a twist?'

          'Yeah,' chimes in Lamorak, 'what's got you all upsetti?' It's the first time it's been so obvious, and Harry's about ready to chuck a pen at him when there's a noise to his right.  
  
          'Is  _tha'_  why you don't like spaghetti anymore?' Eggsy says to Harry, completely unaware that he's spoken aloud, and the other agents hush up to listen. 'How'd they learn that, anyway? Dais' only says it when she's worried...' He's muttering to himself, looking at the table, brows furrowed in concentration.  
  
          'Yeah, Eggs' don't be upsetti. Forgetti your regretti.' Roxy giggles from behind her hand, mischief in her eyes, on Harry's left. She's the only one who knows the full story, having spent ample amounts of time at the Unwin house since V-Day; unlike Harry, who preferred to keep his distance. He'd rather not make Eggsy choose between he and his mother, and so kept his distance.  
  
          'Have spaghetti!' The rest of the table said in unison, and Eggsy groaned before letting his head fall to the table with a thunk. Harry, glad to see someone besides himself as the target, smirks from behind his glass.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, find me on tumblr at [AgentDagonet](http://www.agentdagonet.tumblr.com)


End file.
